


Perspectives of a World in Shambles

by josiechambers3



Series: Fantastic Beasts One-Shots [3]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Chasing, Gellert Grindelwald takes over the world, Heavy Angst, M/M, POV Second Person, Perspectives of a World in Shambles, Running, Unhappily Ever After (kinda)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 14:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11510982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiechambers3/pseuds/josiechambers3
Summary: The world was in shambles, thanks to Gellert Grindlewald.And Newt Scamander and Percival Graves found themselves on opposing sides.*I DON'T OWN FANTASTIC BEASTS. I JUST CREATED THE PLOT AND WROTE THE STORY.





	Perspectives of a World in Shambles

**Author's Note:**

> Part one of Perspectives of a World in Shambles.  
> Second person Newt Scamander’s perspective. AU where Grindlewald takes over.  
> Note: this is NOT an x-reader. This is simply second person Newt’s pov because I feel that adds to the effectiveness of the one-shot. Plus, I was having fun with it. 

The world was in shambles.

Everyone had expected Grindelwald to break out of MACUSA’s prisons eventually, just not so soon. Honestly, he probably would have found a way to weasel out of even Azkaban. But he had been gone, gone with the wind, gone with the brief, shaky peace, within a month. And then places had begun to fall to him and his followers.

First it was Australia. They had never had the strongest wizarding community, anyway, and they were too far away for anyone to send help soon enough. Asia was simple enough to take down, too bogged up on their old superstitions to even notice before he had them in his hold. Eastern Europe went down easy, full of issues already. Then Western Europe began to fall. Romania went down, overwhelmed by sheer numbers despite being a brilliant magic stronghold. The Nordics were next, going down with a bang but still, nevertheless, going down. France fell next, (unsurprisingly) not putting up much of a fight. Overseas, Canada went down simultaneously, although the northernmost parts of it went largely ignored and became a hiding place for rebel witches and wizards. South America and Africa was ignored—their magic was far too primitive and way too few and far in-between for Grindelwald to care about. Nonetheless, he took over Mexico, simply to cut off fleeing American wizards and fence in the United States.

Then America went down. 

The fight was long, hard, and bloody, but in the end, when the dust and rubble cleared, Grindlewald was the one standing on top.

That left Great Britain and Russia the last strongholds, the last ones without the influence of Grindlewald. But there was no point in standing strong. The wizarding world was completely, inevitably, in view of Muggles and No-Majs everywhere, and it had never been a worse time, for it was also on its knees, given in to Grindlewald.

Great Britain surrendered reluctantly but without a fight.

Russia held strong simply because of their physical geography. (And, granted, because Grindlewald didn’t dare touch them...yet.)

The world was in shambles.

The world was in shambles, and it was all your fault.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you ran place to place, in hiding, just you and your case, never daring to stand still for too long.

You should’ve killed Grindlewald when you had the chance. But no, instead you had just turned him in, gone with to investigate and interrogate, let yourself and your feelings for Percy Graves get manipulated by that monster in a human body.

You could remember it all too well.

Going to see Grindlewald, going down there, to the prisons, only to have Percy used against you in order for Grindlewald to escape.

Going to the Goldstein’s house, to protect them, to tell them to get out, to tell them to run away, and finding their dead bodies on the ground, clearly the work of the Killing Curse. At least they had died together. At least their deaths had been mercifully painless.

And then going home, rushing home, desperately to protect Percival before something happened to him, too, only to come home to find that it was too late.

Something inside Percival had been off since his captivity and torture by Grindlewald. Everyone who had known him before had told you that. But you fancied that you could fix it, make him better. You foolishly believed that you could help him heal, like you had many of your creatures. And, even worse, it had seemed like it was working.

But then, coming home to see him in the arms of Grindlewald, kissing and being kissed willingly...hands where they shouldn’t be...watching him break away to smile a feral smile at you while Grindlewald smiled smugly...you knew what had been off about him.

Being captured and tortured by Grindlewald...it had changed him. Snapped him. Distorted, destroyed the real Percy and replaced him with an empty, mindless copy. You couldn’t have fixed him, part of you told yourself. But you should’ve at least realized the truth, another part of you accused.

And as you prepared to run, escape, get away from the scene...hearing him declare, for Grindlewald, that he would personally hunt you down and bring you in, personally destroy you in every possible way, personally torture and kill you....

That was the night that you burned down the house you had spent a happy month in with Percy. You watched the flames lick around all of your possessions, watched your cautiously happy memories go up in flames with them...you couldn’t let Him track you down. You couldn’t leave anything of yours for Him to track you down with. For Percival Graves to track you down with.

You tried not to think about the main bedroom where you had comforted Percy about his nightmares, the parlor where Percy had cautiously begun to tell you about what had happened to him, the kitchen where you had made supper together every night, the back porch where Percy first carefully kissed you, the guest bedroom where you and Percy had first slept together through the night and talked about your asexuality and his newfound dislike of intercourse. You tried not to think about it all, but it was hard.

As the last embers began to go out, you had turned to apparate away. Felt a jolt of terror as you saw the piercing gaze of the one you had loved across the empty remains of the house. Been hopeful for a second as he did nothing to hurt you, hoping that maybe it had all just been a big act. Seen his Cheshire cat-like grin and apparating away in a flash, knowing fearfully that it hadn’t been.

And now you were here, somewhere in the forests of the Amazon, running. Running. Running. You hadn’t stopped running since that night. Hadn’t stopped trudging along. You wanted to stop, oh how you wanted to. You wanted to give in, give up. But your creatures needed you. And maybe, just maybe there would one day be a rebellion. Maybe, just maybe, Percy would come back, apologizing, saying it was all just an elaborate prank.

But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. So you just kept running.

\---

You hadn’t been around people in months.

Of course, you had everything you needed with you—your case, your creatures, your wand, water, food, clothing, everything—but that didn’t stop you from feeling lonely. Even your creatures didn’t stop you from being lonely. You were so alone you even took to talking with the bloody Obscurial, of all things.

Because even someone like you...someone who naturally shied away from humans, someone who had been hurt and scarred time and time again by humans, someone who couldn’t easily trust humans...even someone like you got lonely and had to have at least a little human contact.

And what with the Goldsteins, Jacob, Percy...back before the end, you had begun to get used to the concept of having friends again. Now, having that ripped away from you so suddenly, you knew what it felt like to have friends to love and to be loved by. So you knew what you were missing now.

And you missed it.

You had your creatures, of course, but it just wasn’t quite the same. And you couldn’t chance staying in your case for long periods of time. Even when you put invisibility spells and disillusionment charms on your case, disguising it from others, you couldn’t stop jumping at every noise, couldn’t stop your heart racing as if it had some sort of race to finish, couldn’t stop watching the shack, waiting with bated breath for Him or Grindelwald’s other people to come flooding in, wands at the ready. Even when it was supposed to be safe and the case was supposed to be practically undetectable, you couldn’t quite seem to get out of flight mode.

And, in a way, that hurt just as much as missing people and civilization did, if not more. Your case was supposed to be your safe place, but it wasn’t anymore. It was supposed to be where you could hide from the world, from your problems, but you couldn’t anymore.

Because if you did, the world and your problems might catch up to you when you least expected it.

\---

After a good few months (long months) of running (you weren’t quite sure exactly how long it had been; the days seemed to blend and mush together, one into the next, one into the next), you were lonely. So lonely. So terrified.

And even though you were never much of a tactile person when it came to other people, you had to admit that you really needed a hug, especially if it could be one from Tina, or Queenie, or Jacob. Or...even Percy. But they were all dead, and Percy was as good as dead.

But maybe your parents, your brother...maybe they were okay.

You wished you had some way to know, but you didn’t. And, somehow, not knowing made it worse than if you actually knew they were dead.

You felt so alone in the world, more alone than you had ever been, even during your Hogwarts years (especially the last few). Your few friends were dead and gone. You had no clue if your family was all right.

And there you were, like a coward, running from everything.

And you were lonely. So, so lonely.

So maybe that was why you let your guard down when two innocent-seeming witches and an innocent-seeming wizard coincidentally ran into you one day in the rainforests of Brazil.

It had been a total fluke. You were supposed to be keeping an eye out at all times, but it just got so tiring sometimes.

And they had just happened to quite literally run into you during one of the few times you let your guard down, the youngest witch, a small thing of no more than twenty-five, running directly into you as you were looking one way and they another.

The girl fell down with a loud “Oof!,” causing her companions to pause and look worriedly back.

You yourself stumbled back a bit, though you thankfully kept on your feet.

Your hand immediately flew to where your wand was nestled securely in your coat. These people didn’t look like natives, so you had to be on your guard...although, they could merely be vacationing Muggles, not that there were many of those now that Grindelwald had taken control. Perhaps they were like him, stuck in a foreign land with nowhere to turn, thanks to that monster.

“I—I’m terribly sorry,” you murmured, your voice cracking a bit from lack of use. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

You leaned forward and cordially offered the girl your hand, which she gratefully yet warily took, standing up quickly and backing away from you and towards her companions, which quickly stepped in front of her, almost as if to protect her.

The girl peered at your face from behind her companions, and you warily noticed a flash of recognition cross her face.

“Newt Scamander?” the girl said quietly, cautiously, in a British-accented voice.

You froze. “Y-yes?” you asked warily, staring at the three of them.

“Oh, thank goodness!” the other woman said in a similarly-accented voice, smiling slightly as she too recognized you. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

You were immediately on guard, taking out your wand and holding it shakily in front of you. “Wh-who are you?” you asked carefully.

The man spoke this time. “We’re friends.” He exchanged a glance with his companions. “We share a common enemy. None of us are well-wishers of Grindelwald’s even in the slightest,” he added bitterly. “He killed all of our families.”

“Oh.” You weren’t quite sure what to say to that. “That’s...unfortunate. I’m sorry for your loss.”

The young woman brightened, smiling as she addressed him next. “But not to worry! Your family’s alive and well, Mr. Scamander!”

You could hardly believe it. “R...really?”

The older woman nodded. “You’re one lucky bugger. Your brother, Theseus, he fought like a lion to get your family out of England.” She laughed. “Smuggled your parents right ‘ere, to Brazil. We happened to run into them, and he...asked us to find you. Said he figured you might be somewhere nearby.”

“And look at that! He was right!” The younger girl laughed, smiling warmly. “We can take you to them, if you’d like.”

“You may want to hurry, though,” the man cut it. “Your brother mentioned your mother’s health was failing. It’s why he didn’t come out to find you himself.”

Your heart plummeted as you grew worried. Your mum’s health had been having a few problems months ago, last you had heard. And having the world taken over by an evil mastermind, having her entire world change and having to uproot to a place like this...it certainly couldn’t have been good for her health.

“And...and you’ll take me to them?” you murmured shyly but eagerly. “Y-you’ll take me to my family?” Finally, after months and months of running, something was changing, and it had to be for the better, right?

The older woman smiled understandingly. “Of course.” She turned back in the way that the trio had come. “Right this way.”

And then, like a right bloody idiot, you had followed them, right into their trap.

\---

You should have been more careful.

But only now, as you were immobilized by Petrificus Totalus, lying in one of their tents, did you realize that.

Why couldn’t you have realized it before you had fallen miserably into their trap?

It was so glaringly obvious in retrospect. They had never once shared their names. They had acted way too cheerful for people who were supposedly on the run, who had supposedly had their entire families killed by Grindelwald. And Theseus would never have trusted anyone else to find you. He was an auror, and he had fought in the Great War. He was too careful to trust anyone other than family and close friends.

But, of course, like the bleeding idiot you were, you only realized this now, as you lay, unable to move anything but your eyes, with your wand and your case lying in a corner of the tent, so tantalizingly close yet so heartbreakingly far all the same.

You closed your eyes to stop them from wandering to look at your wand and suitcase. You didn’t want to look at them. If you did, you knew it would be even harder to keep from crying.

Not that it would be hard to cry in the first place.

The three had been truthful in that they ran into Theseus and your parents here. That part, they hadn’t lied about. But the interaction between the two parties had been very, very different.

And your family was very, very dead.

It was something you had known in your heart, but you hadn’t wanted to admit it. But seeing the three freshly-made, hastily-dug mounds of dirt at the entrance confirmed it. Seeing your brother and your parents’ luggage and belongings scattered around the campsite and inside the tent, all turned upside down and looted...it confirmed something that you had known, in your heart, for a long time.

The young woman had laughed at you before spitting in your face. “Your brother really did fight tooth and nail to beat us!” she had laughed. “He went down trying to protect your darling parents even when they had already bled out and were already dead!” She looked down at him, a look of false pity on her face. “To think that you had been so close to them all this time...if only you had found them a little sooner....”

You didn’t want to think about that.

“At least he was a fun fight,” the older woman had cackled before turning a sharp eye on Newt’s immobilized body. “You, though? You’re worthless. Didn’t even suspect us, you were so foolish. We’d have you begging in seconds, worthless coward.”

The man had cut in then, grinning maniacally. “But don’t worry. We don’t get to have fun with you—”

“Unfortunately,” the older woman had tsked.

“—unfortunately,” the man had acknowledged. “The boss has special plans for you when he gets here.”

“You should feel special!” The young woman grinned, but there was nothing friendly in this smile. “He doesn’t come all the way out here for just anyone.”

And then they had left you there in the tent, terrified, their words echoing around your head as you awaited your fate.

Worthless. Coward.

They were right. You were worthless. You were a coward.

You shut your eyes even more tightly to keep the tears of frustration from escaping. Whatever they had planned for you, whatever He had planned for you, you weren’t going to cry. You weren’t going to scream. You weren’t going to beg.

You didn’t know what awaited you, who awaited you, but you had a fairly good idea what it was, who it was. It was going to be hard, but you could do it. You would do it.

You would go out like your older brother, like Theseus. You would go out fighting, with your head held high.

After all, Percy was as good as dead to you.

\---

You spent the rest of the day watching how the sun hit the tent you were in, carefully and obsessively keeping track of time. After all, there was nothing better to do than to count down the seconds to your death.

Eventually, though, the sun went away, and night fell upon the campsite.

The three hadn’t been in here since the afternoon, when the young witch had come in, released you from the body bind spell, and taken you and tied your wrists to a stake driven into the ground. Then she had proceeded to eat in front of you, showing off the tantalizingly delicious-smelling food that you wouldn’t get to eat.

Even released from the body bind, you just lay there limply, listlessly, slumped against the ground.

Your stomach growled a little, but you steadfastly ignored it. The one thing you had been able to consistently stick to while on the run was an eating schedule. You were well-fed, having eaten three good meals a day for the past couple months. Now that was being thrown off by lack of a lunch and dinner, but you would be all right. You were well-fed. You wouldn’t cave in to your stomach.

Suddenly, you heard a loud crack.

You knew that sound anywhere.

That was the sound of someone apparating to the campsite.

He was here.

And your destruction, your death, had to be not far behind.

And then you heard a shouted “Avada kedavra!,” and you saw three bright flashes of green outside the cracked flap of the tent.

But none of them were pointed at you.

What?

Then a hand came around the flap, and it turned back even more, enough to let a grown man through.

Enough to let Him through.

And there He was, standing there, staring at you impassively.

You started to breathe faster, heart racing. No, no, no. Calm down. Look Him in the eye. Don’t show weakness.

But you are weak. You couldn’t look Him in the eye. You couldn’t calm down.

You looked at the ground, trying desperately to avoid his eye. Some small part of your mind prayed that maybe, maybe if you ignored Him, He would ignore you. Maybe you’d melt into the ground. Maybe Theseus would suddenly come up out of nowhere, abandoning his pretense of being dead.

But you knew that your brother couldn’t save you anymore. He was dead, alongside everyone else you ever knew and loved. You were the last one, but you would be joining them soon.

And in a scary way, that was more relieving than continuing to live like this, running and hiding and fearing like this.

Suddenly a hand, his hand, was on your chin, forcing you to look up, up into his dark eyes.

He wasn’t under the Imperius Curse; his eyes were too bright and aware. There went that small, fruitless hope.

His face was impassive as you stared hopelessly up at him.

Then it broke out into a grin that had no warmth, no nothing in it. Only emptiness, insanity.

“I took care of the other three, so we’re all alone,” Percival Graves purred to you.

You struggled to say something, anything defiant, rebellious. Maybe to spit in his face. But He still had Percy’s face. And it wasn’t in your personality to say anything like that. So, the only thing you could manage to say was, “Er...thank you?”

Something akin to amusement flickered across his face. “You’re welcome.”

There was silence, as you stared up at Him and He stared down at you.

Then, to your surprise, He reached down and released your wrists from the ropes with a flick of his wand.

Without the ropes holding you up, you started to fall to the ground, but He easily reached out and caught you.

It was like being in Percy’s embrace again, sleeping the nights away peacefully next to each other in bed, and you almost relaxed, desperate to relax after months of tension and fear, but then you remembered that it was Him you were talking about. You flinched away, and He let you fall and scramble away from Him, backing away into a corner of the tent.

No, you idiot. Stand up. Face your death like a man, like Theseus did. Stand up. Stand up.

Why couldn’t you stand up?

He looked at you, the crazy smile gone for a moment. “Why do you keep running?”

You stumbled to your feet slowly. “Why do you keep chasing me?”

For a moment, his expression almost looked pained. “You know I can’t stop.”

You looked between Him and your case, your wand, both lying near the opening flap of the tent.

“Then I can’t stop running.”

You leapt for your stuff, but He tackled you, and the next thing you knew, you and He were rolling around, and you couldn’t tell up from down. Then you were on the ground, and he was on top of you, and you were staring up at him and he down at you, and then he was kissing you.

And you were kissing back.

But then his hands started to stray down, and you snapped back into reality, and you knew what was going on again, knew where you were again, knew who He was again.

No. No. No. Not Percy. No.

You struggled to shove away, and to your surprise, He let you, standing and only looking on as you fell back to the ground.

You watched, blue-green eyes wide, as He stepped back away from you. He wore an insane grin on his lips, but you could’ve sworn you had seen some remorse, some regret, some sadness in his eyes for a moment. Then you blinked and it was gone, all gone.

“Good,” He laughed. “That makes the chase all the more exciting.” He bent down and picked up your wand. He tossed you your wand, and you caught it, surprised, eyes wide, watching as He blew you a mocking little kiss.

Then Percival Graves apparated away into the night.

You stood there for a moment, the forest seeming to come alive again with the sounds of the animals as you stood silent, immobile, your case at your feet in that tent.

Had he...let you go? On purpose?

But no.

You shook yourself out of your stupor. That wasn’t Percy. That was Percival Graves. Percival Graves, right hand man to Grindlewald, lunatic of the year. Percival Graves wouldn’t help you. He would kill you, torture you slowly and surely, destroy you, enjoying it all the while. He wouldn’t let you go for a reason. This just meant He had some sort of sinister plan in mind rather than capture you now. And that made it worse. This was that Percival Graves. This wasn’t Percy.

You had watched the Percy you knew go up in flames with the house that night.

And now, another one pursued you.

Percival Graves, right hand of the great lord and ruler Grindlewald.

He was why you were running. He was why you couldn’t stop.

You turned and apparated away, resigned to keep running from Him.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a very enjoyable one-shot to write. Nice and angsty...just the way I like ‘em (that is, when I don’t want ‘em crack-y af. Lol).  
> I may continue this and give insight on Percival’s point of view throughout this entire ordeal if enough people want it.... :3 but that doesn’t mean this is gonna be a happily ever after. In my mind, it definitely isn’t. Not for a long, long while, at least.  
> Sooo...yeah. I hope you enjoyed, and if you want a continuation, please feel free to comment below to make sure that I know!  
> (Note: listened to the Dear Evan Hansen soundtrack while writing this. It’s surprising how much a lot of those tracks fit Newt...and me. Nearly cried in the middle of a dance class, the first time I heard Waving Through a Window, because that is exactly how I’ve felt my entire life.)


End file.
